Shattered Green Glass
by nikolayevich
Summary: Found unconscious outside of the forbidden forest the night of murders, with memory loss, under the control of a wizard potion, with only Snape there to protect him. The wizard world was a buzz, was Harry Potter the savior or the destroyer?
1. The Pain Never Leaves

**A/N: **Not as good as I originally hoped. It's shorter than normal, for that I apologize. This is a revise, but it seems to have grown a mind of its own, so it may drift off the path of the original story. Updates are on Wednesday!

Summary: Addictions are addictions. Snape is Snape. Harry Potter is lost in the first, and found by the second. It seemed it was to harder get rid of Snape... Oh, hell.

This is **NOT** a sexual pairing between Snape and Harry. It's a platonic relationship, most likely a mentor type relationship. There are mentions of drug abuse(Wizard Drugs), vivid hallucinations, a (Small) suicide attempt, and angst.

Because I'm a glutton for happy endings, this story will have one.

Feedback is welcome. You may also suggest things you would like to see happen to our poor little Potter.

This story is sort... of edited.

**Word Count: **3,008 (I normally keep chapters in between 5-6,000. So this is on the short side, but expect longer ones.)

0-0-0= Changes in time

Line breaks are for changes in P.O.V.

Disclaimer: I do not own these wonderful characters, I make no money off of this story, that all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

_Harry Potter, Harry Potter._

His name taunted him. It slithered in like a dark whisper and repeated itself until his brain wanted to deny ownership. The repetition pushed him to the brink of insanity. Where had the blissful moments gone? Where had Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, gone off too? The pressure was too much. It was all too much.

He didn't want to be The-Boy-Who-Lived. He wanted to be normal.

_Vanquish Voldemort. Vanquish Voldemort. _

Couldn't someone else kill him? Couldn't anyone? Why did it just have to be him?

The room was stifling. It was almost as if someone had turned the heat up to _scald_ with the intent of melting his brain.

He felt like he rollerblading down a mountain and he didn't know how to brake.

There was a potion on the table in front of him. It was labeled simply, "_Maestus Tenebrae_" and it was the bane of his existence.

"Why did I even accept you?" Harry murmured with his face pressed harshly against the table. The glistening vial mocked him with its freedom. It knew that he wanted it.

He couldn't help it. He really couldn't. He touched the vial gently. It made it all go away, but it was much worse than any muggle drug. He would have never taken it, he told himself over and over. He had been desperate.

Desperate for someone to care about _Harry_, the child,not Harry Potter The Boy-Who-Lived.

Desperate for someone to pull him out of his nightmares.

Desperate for anyone.

He had Hermione and Ron, he loved them, but he was in need of something else, something newer that scared away the ghosts.

_Maestus Tenebrae_ had appeared like a present with a ribbon wrapped daintily around its neck. It was placed on the ledge, a few feet in front of him, as though it was made just for him, and he knew it was. The note that accompanied it seemed innocuous, for a few moments. He knew it was dark, the smell of evil rolled off of it in soft waves. He should have banished it. He should have left it alone. He should have done a lot of things.

"_For your troubles. – A Friend." _The handwriting was neat. It looked perfect. Everything about it screamed with the perfection he so desperately needed. He ignored the evil and reveled in the refinement.

He took a small swig to begin with. It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. He drank it so quickly. It was so amazing, a brilliant high, and the world would always disappear in a gorgeous array of colors. But it wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

His tiny room filled itself with blood, daily. He never escaped the images that had burned so far into his retina. Ghosts danced around the room, mocking him, with their dead smiles. He was starting to fear Voldemort less and less.

_Maestus Tenebrae_ showed up in his room every day at exactly four fifteen P.M. He didn't know who gave it to him or where it came from, and honestly, he didn't care. His Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin, who had dibbed him mental, opted to ignore him entirely. Not that he was complaining. His friend's letters became infrequent because of is lack of response.

_You're pathetic. _The crows mocked shrilly from somewhere deep in the confines of his brain. Their words never left, all they did was repeat the phrases that drove him unhappier with each uttered syllable. They knew all of his problems. They were deliciously correct with their blood filled beaks, talons that still held remnants of flesh, and their black feathers that seemed to reflect his emotional state. _Yes._

They continued their horrific chirping as he closed his eyelids tightly. He wished they would glue themselves together so he would never have to wake up.

_Sleep, feel safe for a few moments, but we'll be back. _

"Potter." A firm hand was on his shoulder, shaking him back and forth. Who would be bothering him? The ghosts couldn't touch him. The birds couldn't touch him. Had he gone outside? He could feel the grass underneath him.

"Potter, wake up, you idiotic child." The voice spoke again, urgent, unhappy, and impatient. He knew that voice. He _always_ knew that voice.

"Professor Snape?" His voice came out in a choked whisper. Had the crows nestled themselves in his throat to keep him from speaking? He opened his eyes slowly. His eyelids felt like they had been ripped off and then rubbed with salt. His Professor loomed over him. With his eyes narrowed, Snape gripped him by the upper arm and yanked him onto his feet. Harry swayed uneasily at the unexpected change in position. He knew he was going to fall. He could practically feel the ground coming closer, but he stayed upright. Oh, he thought looking at his arm. Snape still had a hold of him.

"Forget how to stand, Potter?" Snape sneered as he let go of Harry's arm, but he kept a bit closer to Harry, just incase Harry had actually forgotten the basic concepts of standing.

Harry still didn't fall, and he was proud of himself. That would show Snape that he could stand without help. A new feeling blossomed in his chest, one that suggested maybe he shouldn't be proud. Tons of muggles, Wizards, and Squibs all knew how to stand. He realized the feeling then, it was embarrassment. Had the potion really messed him up that badly? He was being stupid.

Why were his thoughts so jumbled?

"What do you want?" His voice sounded like it had been dragged through a blender. There was cool breeze on his face, it pulled an uneasy calm through him, causing his flushed face and tangled emotions to merge together into an eerie moment of apathy.

"What I would like to know, Mr. Potter, is why you are currently mingling outside of the forbidden forest?" Snape loomed over him with a foreboding look on his face.

Harry glanced around in horror. How had he managed to get to Hogwarts?

"I don't know, sir." He mumbled. "I just... fell asleep and woke up here."

"That's hard to believe, Mr. Potter." He snarled, his nostrils flaring in a show of anger.

It was all happening too quickly, Harry knew. The world didn't seem quite right. Everything seemed flipped, like he had spent hours spinning in circles with his arms spread out like wings. Even though he knew his arms weren't wings, he imagined they were. In his head, he soared away in a great flap of his wings leaving Snape flabbergasted. He knew it would never happen because Harry Potter had his feet nailed to the ground.

The sky was not for him.

The sky was never for him.

He had even lost his interest in Quidditch, for the time being.

Flying reminded him of Quidditch, Quidditch reminded him of the Triwizard Tournament, and the Triwizard Tournament reminded him that Cedric Diggory was no longer living because of him.

Snape glanced at him, eyebrow raised in question. He was waiting, waiting for Harry Potter to respond, waiting for the boy-who-fucking-lived to yell in rebuttal, but Harry didn't say a word. He wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction. He wouldn't give that awful man anything.

The birds in his brain cackled selfishly. They fed off the negative emotions. The emotions that ate up his brain like a gas fed fire.

He stared at Snape, with a dead look in his eyes. He turned slowly on his heels, hoping to stay standing, to face the monstrous trees in front of him. The trees of the forbidden forest hovered over them with malice intent. The wind whipped through their limbs causing them to let out long wailing moans of agony. Were they in pain? No, normal trees didn't have normal feelings. It was dark out, with only the moon shinning brightly. Why was Snape out so late? What time was it anyways?

"Potter." Snape's voice drifted up into his brain and mixed in with the miserable thoughts crouching there. "How did you get here?"

"I told you, _sir_." He snapped. His breath felt like fire. What was Snape's problem? "I fell asleep and ended up here. It's not my bloody fault you're deaf."

He could practically feel the waves of bone shattering anger coming off of his Professor.

His anger was equally matched, because anger in the form of liquid fire churned in his stomach. He turned back to face Snape. The look in his Professor's eyes whispered the ways he wanted to destroy him. There was such an unaltered hate between them, he knew. There was a small part of him, lying exhausted and malnourished in the pit of his stomach that wanted him to get along with Snape. Then again, that part of him was never going to see the light of day, because it was idiotic.

"Potter." Snape's voice sounded too much like a snake that slivered up his spine and nestled in his brain.

"Snape." He suddenly felt defeated as the energy he had been trying to keep a hold of disappeared.

* * *

Something was going on, Severus knew. The little dunderhead in front of him seemed so detached from the world. Normally, he only seemed distracted by the normal things that left his green eyes bright and mischievous. This child in front of him was alien, at best. His eyes were glazed over with that tinge only the mentally insane could carry.

He had appeared at Hogwarts, out of the blue. He seemed distraught. He avoided eye contact, was obviously uncomfortable in his own skin, dressed in oversized clothes, and he couldn't keep still. He was twitching, his eyes glanced everywhere but nowhere, and he seemed to be losing his mind.

Severus knew something was wrong, but that didn't stop the anger welling up inside of him at the pertinent and ill-mannered responses he received from the boy. Severus took a deep breath and felt himself calm slowly. He would simply deliver Potter to Dumbledore. He'd let the twinkling old fool take care of the boy. Then, he would be left to head home for the summer, just as he wished to do originally.

"Come, Potter." He said in a boorish manner, hoping that the idiot would understand that his dislike was still very much intact. He started off towards the castle. He hoped Potter didn't forget how to follow _simple_ orders.

Severus had simple needs. He hoped for a quiet night, finishing up a few potions, before retiring quietly. He was due to head home the next day. The school term had ended a few days ago. All of the students had gone home and so had most of the professors, which left only a few professors who lived at Hogwarts or had unfinished business. Leave it to Harry Potter to ruin his plans.

"Professor," Potter spoke up hoarsely behind him. "I think I've missed a few classes today…"

Severus froze mid-step causing one very confused Gryffindor to slam into his back. Why had he not thought this before? He turned swiftly, and stepped a few feet back with his wand pointed at the 'boy'. Why had he not thought that this person might not be Harry Potter? It was all too convenient.

"P-professor?" Potter stood in front of him, staring at him with those large green eyes that taunted him with every look.

* * *

Harry Potter was holding hands with the devil. He couldn't move. His blood had been exchanged for cement.

Everything was taunting him.

Everyone knew how much of a freak he was. Now Snape knew, more than everyone else.

Snape was going to kill him. It was such a delicious feeling. The feeling that in the next few moments his life would just be gone. There wouldn't be a Harry Potter anymore.

The bat in front of him gripped the wand so tightly his bony fingers had gone white with stress. "Potter, tell me…" Snape began circling him, like a predator would circle its prey. "What is Remus Lupin?"

"What is he…?" Harry asked and his eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "He's a werewolf." Harry knew he should have grabbed his wand from his pocket, but there honestly wasn't a need. He was more than ready to die.

'Come on, Snape.' His mind chanted. 'You know you want to. Kill me.'

His head was pounding viciously. It was almost as if some little man was playing with drums in his mind. He braced himself for the blast.

But nothing came.

Weariness seemed to settle into his bones. It wasn't surprising. He was always tired.

He moved like he was covered in sludge.

Snape lowered his wand. "All right, you blundering idiot. To the castle." And without another word, his Professor started towards Hogwarts.

_REALLY? _The newly awakened Crows hissed. Their beaks were open in anger. _We were so close to getting out of here. _

They were livid. The pain in his head doubled as they tried to pick their way out, using their talons and beaks to grab bits of flesh.

Harry couldn't handle it. He started screaming. He felt his fingers grab at the skin on his face. They had to get out. They _really _had to get out. It hurt so much. They had to go. He pulled and scratched at his skin.

It was too much.

He slumped to the ground and as the world faded black, he saw Snape looming over him.

'Kill me, now.'

0-0-0-0

Harry dreamt he was being carried. The ghostly arms lugged him to a place he didn't know, along a path he'd never know, and with a grace his fourteen-year-old mind couldn't fathom. His sleeping mind thrummed with happiness because, he had never been carried before, even in his sleep. He knew his brain was obviously playing tricks on him to try to fend off his endless loneliness.

This dream was different from his others. He couldn't see anything; he could only hear the hard footsteps of the person, the feel of the soft breathing against his side, and the hot body heat warming him like something he'd never felt before.

He was extremely pleased that this dream was void of the normal monsters and blood. Normally, the high that came from _Maestus Tenebrae _kept him awake, with a hand on his wand, just in case the monsters crawled out from under his bed.

The footsteps stopped and Harry feared he would wake soon. He was soon deposited onto something soft and silkily.

Harry's eyes fluttered open. The low light in the room caused everything to be coated in shadows and he felt the intense burning in his brain of exhaustion. His eyes were tired, and the chill of the room made him shudder. He opened his mouth, another scream on his lips, when the dark silhouette of someone so unmistakable appeared in his line of vision.

Snape stood over him, glowering at him suspiciously. An unreasonable sense of relief flooded over him.

"Professor, what…?" He began with his voice sounding like sandpaper.

"Hush, Potter." Snape pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The man was absolutely dripping with that particular emotion, along with some others that stayed dormant in his eyes until he thought no one was looking. "Go to sleep."

He opened his mouth to say something rude, something so biting his Professor would just wither away from the scorn, but all that came out was a muted yawn.

Snape raised an eyebrow, and held out his hand.

Harry stared at it dumbly.

"Your glasses, Mr. Potter." He curled and uncurled his fingers against his palm quickly in a show of impatience.

Harry pulled his glasses off sluggishly. His joints burned with exhaustion. He handed over his glasses numbly. The day was too much.

He didn't see where Snape placed them, nor did he really care. It would be nicer not to see anyway.

He sank deeper into the silky goodness, and his heavy eyelids closed slowly.

"Goodnight, Potter."

"Mn… Night…" He mumbled, disappearing into the darkness of sleep.

And for once, the ghosts, the ghouls, the haunts, the sadness, and the crows were silent.

* * *

Harry Potter was one of the most irritating and stressful little beings that Severus had ever come in contact with, including Longbottom. He wore Severus out. Potter lead him through a maze, but he knew he was doomed to never leave. Potter's behavior was disconcerting.

Snape knew he had to watch the boy closely. If anything, more closely than normal because it seemed the boy had drifted off his designated path. He glanced down at the idiot, buried in the covers, seeming peaceful and innocent.

"Such a lie." Severus murmured. "Innocence is easily lost and gained, it seems." But that was also a lie. Even in times of trouble, Potter still seemed to keep some semblance of innocence in his life. Now, it seemed as though the boy had lost it all in a flurry of corruption.

The sleeping Harry Potter was flushed with fever, but still having a certain ease about him in his sleep.

He exited the room quickly. There was too much thinking, not enough action. He needed to speak with the Headmaster. While casting a Tempus charm, he realized it was much too late to go calling after Dumbledore.

A self-critical battle raged within his mind concerning his sanity and feelings for one James Potter that seemed to not affect his begrudging help of one Potter-Spawn. It seemed that no matter what he did, Harry Potter never seemed to leave his radar. Severus had a miserable feeling that he wasn't going to be rid of the boy as soon as he had hoped.

* * *

**A/N: **I hope you liked it!

All flames will be laughed at and then ignored.


	2. Gossip is Almost as Dangerous as Fire

I UPDATED! YES!

Anyways, This is mostly in Snape's point of view. Remus is tagging along.

Reviews are appreciated.

I really like the idea of having Snape a little bit more compassionate than Canon.

Harry is going to get worse before he gets better.

Sorry guys, I just finished School so updates will be faster and longer!

* * *

Severus Snape was the servant of two masters. One easily admitted to the evil he immersed himself in. The other admitted too little. Yet, Severus' loyalties lied with neither.

Severus's father, in a moment of complete sobriety, glanced at him with eyes clearer than Severus had ever seen. His father gripped his shoulder tightly and spoke, 'every creature is tainted with evil, Severus. Never trust one who denies the existence of this for they will be the death of you.' As a young child, he doubted it. As an adult, it was practically his religion.

Severus often wondered, deep with in the recesses of his mind, if it was as lonely at the top as the rumors suggested. He glanced down at the hollow-cheeked Gryffindor unconscious in _his _bed.

In his life he had been asked many things but trailing the 'savior' was one of the most tasking. Of course the boy wasn't as much his problem once he left Hogwarts. Yet, once he returned to school, the world seemed to becoming increasingly more annoying.

Severus had seen the look in _Harry Bloody Potter's_ eyes when he pulled him up off the ground. The green eyes were cloudy and broken. He easily had known there was something wrong with the boy. It was almost the same look Potter had given him on the last day of school right before he disappeared onto the train. Severus had been waiting for, perhaps even dreading, the day when Harry Potter would crack. He had never assumed it would bother him like it did. He knew it was inevitable. Children couldn't handle that type of stress but Potter was supposed to be special. He was supposed to be able to manage it. He was destined to destroy Voldemort, much like he had on the night of his Parent's death. Potter had the world on his shoulders but wasn't strong enough to hold it up.

Staring at Potter then, Severus could practically feel the insanity rolling off Potter in waves. Harry Potter wasn't his child but he was plopped in front of him like he belonged there. It was annoying. It was bothersome. It was everything he disliked. Yet, the broken being formerly known as Harry Potter made it hard to despise him. He couldn't help it. Potter was his responsibility and he was stuck with Severus until he recovered. There was no way of getting out of it even if he screamed until he was blue in the face.

He had wanted to throw a fit. He had wanted to stomp his feet and just scream out all the injustices at Dumbledore. But he didn't. He refused to stoop down to that level. No matter how damn good it felt.

It had started simply enough. He had just planned on informing the Headmaster of Potter's whereabouts and then he was going to hand the boy over to the Headmaster and leave. It was too bad that things with Albus Dumbledore never worked out as easily as planned.

"Ah, Severus, how nice to see you." When Severus was a child, new to Hogwarts, he had thought the Headmaster's smile was the nicest, most genuine smile he had ever seen. He didn't think so highly of it as an adult.

"Headmaster, this is a very serious matter. And no, I do not want any of your bloody candies."

Albus' hand froze over the candy bowl as his eyes twinkled with mirth. "Yes, yes. I always forget that you have an aversion to sweets. I assume this about our young Mr. Potter?"

"Yes." Severus mentally slapped himself. Of course the nosey old man knew everything that went on in his school. "He is currently in my rooms."

"Is that so?" Albus smiled and popped a sweet into his mouth. "Hmm, It is quite curious how he ended up here in the first place. It's curious, yet not impossible. Our young Mr. Potter has quite a few tricks up his sleeve."

"He is a child. There is no way that Potter could have managed to Apparate to Hogwarts. He is much too young, has little experience, not to mention his lack of a license—Uh, breaking the law is one of his favorite pastimes, so that is more believable-, and the wards of Hogwarts surely would have kept him out. I found him on the outskirts of the forbidden forest, lying there like he owned the place. He is out of control, emaciated, feverish, and under some magical charm that I cannot seem to break. Headmaster, I… Fear more for his life now than anytime before."

Albus' lips curled up into an almost smug grin. "I leave him in your capable hands, Severus. I have the utmost trust that you can bring Mr. Potter into a full recovery."

Severus was completely flabbergasted, his mouth hung open in surprise.

"Good day, Severus!"

And that was that.

* * *

Harry had been awake for an hour. His breathing was shallow, but he sat up, leaning heavily against the backboard of the bed.

Snape was nowhere to be found and that suited him just fine.

The birds on his shoulders lied. They said things, wonderful things, at first but quickly they lied.

"How many fools burn their fingers on a stove top each day?" One crow whispered to the other. "It's a surprise that the soft human skin has yet to melt off."

"Don't you know?" The other crow questioned. "The flesh grows back. Lose a finger, grow another. Lose a hand, grow another."

"That's not how it works!" Harry exclaimed, shooing them from his head. They squawked indignantly and sat upon the bed frame. "If I lose an arm, a hand, a finger, or anything else, it does not grow back! I am without it, forever. Think of it as dying. The part dies, it does not come back."

"Surely there are spells." The first crow nudged the second with his beak. "What point is having magic if you can't use it?"

"I am much too young to use it alone," Harry whispered, angrily, to himself. "The age restriction is worthless! I reserve the right to murder whoever I want."

"Such dark thoughts!" The second bird jumped on to his lap. It stared up at him with beady black eyes that reminded him of someone he knew but refused to recognize. "Should you not be pure? Life is purity…"

"Life is darkness!" The first crow countered stopping the cleaning of his feathers. "It figures that you would be the light and I would be the dark. Mother always favored you!"

"We are birds! It is impossible to favor anyone but ourselves."

"Both of you, quiet, I cannot sink into depression with you lingering. You used to hate me whispering lies and urges for my death. What happened?" He asked, his face flushed red in anger. His hand twitched next to the second crow. He had an insatiable urge to strangle the black creature.

"We've become part of you." Both crows said in unison.

"You die, we die," said the first.

"Such a sad thing," said the second.

"You both are the cause of this," he hissed with venom laced his words.

"No, no, no, no, Harry," The second one cawed. "You did this to yourself."

"I did no such thing!" He squealed much like a pig lined up for slaughter. His face was beet red with anger. He gnawed at his bottom lip. "I was nothing if not what everyone wanted."

"You hold too much pride for yourself, Mr. Potter." Snape's voice drifted in from the side of the room, it melted into his ears, and swam into his brain. "Here's a bit of a lesson for you," Snape crossed the room and stood, menacingly, over the bed. "You will never be able to make everyone happy. You will never be as good as you're wanted to be. You will only be as good as you can manage. The standards of others mean nothing if you can't even stomach your own."

The crows had returned to Harry's brain.

"Professor," Harry scoffed as though the name was a lie, a joke, that his 'professor' was nothing more than an adult too high on his horse. "You have no right to be speaking of my standards when you have none. You have no sense of decency. You are a vile old man. You don't seem to have any family. That's obviously because you have no sympathy. You are a depressing individual."

Snape clenched his jaw, his eyes black with vexation, "pot calling the kettle black."

The anger, like a disease, consumed Harry. It filled his veins and he almost wanted to grasp his wand tightly in his hand and murmur 'Avada Kedavra'. He wanted to see the light fade from Snape's eyes as he di- "Oh, god." Harry spoke allowed. What was he doing? He didn't want to kill Snape. He didn't want to kill anyone.

The anger in Snape's eyes dissipated to leave a muted worry. "Potter?" Snape questioned, softly, as though he was trying to calm a spooked animal.

"I wanted to kill you." Harry whispered. His tone was defeated. His shoulders were hunched over sadly. "What's wrong with me? I kept thinking how wonderful it would be to watch you die." He chocked on a sob. Tears streamed down his face as he glanced up at his Professor. "I don't want to kill people."

"Yes, I know." Snape sighed. "Stop crying. You're a Gryffindor not a Hufflepuff, have some pride…" He pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. "Where is your unfaltering courage? The courage that makes you an idiot, the courage that causes you to do anything for your friends. Where is Harry Potter?" He asked, a sound of subdued disbelief jumped out of his throat.

"He's dead." Harry said simply. "All that is left is a coward."

* * *

Severus had given Potter a Dreamless Sleep potion in hopes to have some time to think. He paced through the corridors, a frown marred his features. The boy was nowhere near the person he had seen just weeks before.

"Severus!"

He stiffened at the sound of his name. His back straightened painfully and a sneer etched itself onto his face.

"Lupin," he said coolly turning on his heel to face the mangy wolf. "It's a little early for your potion, don't you think?"

Lupin smiled sheepishly. "Uh, yes, but that isn't why I'm here."

Severus' eyebrow arched.

"The headmaster told me Harry was here."

"Oh?" Severus asked smoothly. Inside he was raging, of course Dumbledore had to pull the ex professor into Potter's problems.

Lupin shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, "I'd, uh, like to see him. If that's all right, Severus."

* * *

Potter's eyes were twin emeralds. Each eye had one line splitting jaggedly through the iris. His eyes seemed to have acquired a crack, a crack that was normally reserved for glass.

Severus stared; taking in the boy who pushed around food he had little interest in with his fork. Potter was hunched over the food. A scowl seemed to be stapled to his face. Every once in a while he'd glance up and his eyes would flick from Severus to Lupin in anguish. Severus could feel the boy resisting to urge to flee. Potter twitched and reached up to scratch viciously at his neck.

Lupin, who was busy sipping tea and yammering on about Potter's mutt of a godfather, didn't seem to notice how oddly the boy was acting. Lupin's index fingers tapped the outside of the teacup in a repetitive fashion.

"Shut up," Potter hissed at his shoulder. "Just shut up."

Lupin paused mid sentence, "I beg your pardon?" Shock marred his features, as he gripped the teacup tighter, his face draining color like a leaky faucet.

"Not you, Professor. I was talking to-" He glanced back at his shoulder, his eyes widened with nervousness as if whomever he had been speaking to had disappeared. He looked back to his bowl as if unable to meet his ex-professor's eyes.

"Of course, Harry…" The wolf shifted again.

Severus almost smirked as the realization of Potter's mental state dawned on Lupin. One of Lupin's hands moved away from the cup and into his pocket. He seemed to be searching around for the chocolate he normally kept there.

Severus mentally scoffed, as if chocolate would fix the boy's problems. Eyes, the color of the man's beloved chocolate, found Severus'. Severus almost sighed at the crestfallen look the man had adapted.

"Severus, could I have a word with you?" Lupin asked, presumptuously standing as if he knew Snape would say yes.

The potion's professor gritted his teeth and nodded slowly. He stood and stared at Potter, who had looked back up abruptly, "Stay." Severus demanded.

"I am no dog, _Professor._" Potter growled, imitating the dog he insisted he wasn't.

Severus turned his nose upwards and sniffed, "really? I wouldn't have known. The smell is deceiving."

"Severus…" Lupin made a noise, much akin to a whine, from beside him.

"Yes, yes, wolf. I'm coming." Severus said.

* * *

In Harry Potter's eyes Severus Snape was the vilest creature he had ever come in contact with. All right, that was a lie, but he was sitting far up on the miserable list.

Remus and Snape had sat in front of him in the Great Hall staring at him with eyes that judged and were out to destroy him.

"It's a good thing they left, hmmm?" The crow on his shoulder hummed out into his ear. It was the eviler one of the two. The nicer one, with feathers slowly turning white, had disappeared from his shoulder the moment he spoke aloud to it in front of the Professors.

"Yes," he responded while chucking his bowl across the table. It landed angrily on the ground with a loud smash.

"It's quite cute that they give each other nicknames." The crow giggled, puffing up as it hopped onto the table.

"Those are meant to be insulting."

"Yes, but they do seem quite found of each other. Hate is so close to love..." It cackled maliciously.

"You're disgusting." Harry hissed. He rested his head on his arms. He could feel the headache blossoming in his mind. The fresh scent of blood filled his nostrils, reminding him of his depression.

"And you're just a little boy with no real power. Oh, oh! A shiny thing! You need it."

Harry's head snapped up. Following the crow with his eyes as it flew over to a neighboring table. Sitting there, looking as innocent as ever, was _Maestus Tenebrae. _

He almost cried as his body, much like a puppet attached to wires, moved without his bidding.

_'I couldn't let you miss me.' _The note read.

On the first taste, the world exploded in color.

There was a hissing under his skin, an anguished moan on his tongue, and cold water in his eyes.

Harry was moving against his will. He laughed, loudly, and found himself standing upon on a table his wand in hand.

He aimed his wand at the Slytherin table…

Took in two breaths, in an attempt to ease the pain in his lungs,

... And set it aflame.

* * *

"He's insane." Severus said simply to the wolf's rushed questions. "That much is obvious."

"Severus, we have a problem." Remus murmured rolling the newly obtained issue of The Daily Prophet in his hands nervously.

"We always have a problem involving Mr. Potter. I assumed you would know this seeing as how you were so close to the his hellion father."

Bright red anger dusted across Lupin's cheeks and his lips drew into a thin line. "It's this, Snape." He unraveled the paper quickly and held it up for Severus to see.

The headlines were dark black. It seemed like they were darker from the catastrophic news. It was if the sorrow had bled into the words.

Severus read it aloud, slowly, as if trying to make sense of the words before him, "ten killed in midnight raid…"

"Isn't it…" Remus paused. "A little odd that Harry showed up just hours after a raid?"

Harry Potter's problems were always more complicated than they seemed.

"Losing faith in him already?" Severus hissed. His stomach filled with uncertain ease.

"No, but word spread quickly that you found him here last night. I have my undying faith in him but others…" Lupin trailed off.

"Others will believe anything," Severus whispered to himself.


End file.
